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“Yes, it is,” I adamantly agree.
“See you Monday morning bright and early, Soph,” he tells my wife, using a shortened version of her name like he knows her so well. His perfect Colgate smile is also back in place. Thankfully he wanders off so that I don’t have to knock all of those perfect white teeth out of his mouth.
Wait. He’ll see Sophie Monday morning?
“What the fuck was he talking about?” I ask her. “You’re not going to see him Monday or any other day bright and fucking early.”
“You didn’t have to be such a dick to Cole,” Sophie huffs. That’s twice now that I’ve had to hear his name on her lips, which is fucking infuriating.
“Answer my question. Now.”
“He’s coming over to play tennis with me.”
“No.”
“Yes!” she exclaims so loudly that several heads turn in our direction. “Yes, he is. Cole is the closest thing I have to a friend thanks to my father keeping me locked away.”
Rather than continue to argue in public that blondie’s not coming anywhere near her if I’m not around, I ask, “How well do you know your stepbrother, princess?”
She shrugs. “He came to visit Vanessa before she and my dad got married. Then we spent a few weeks together while everything was happening with that Petrov guy…”
“Weeks?”
“Yes, on a private island with Cass, Cole’s friends, and a bunch of guards of course.”
She spent weeks on an island with the frat boy?
“Did you fuck him?”
“What? No!” she scoffs before lowering her voice. “I told you I was a virgin until you, until that night in the club.” Her cheeks flush red in anger. “How can you be jealous of Cole when you refuse to stop fucking other women?”
“You better remember my rule, Sophie. If you lay a hand on him or if he dares to even try to touch you, I will eviscerate him and make you watch.”
“No, you won’t,” she replies confidently with her chin lifted. She’s sexy as hell when she tries to act all tough. “Because Dante would kill you for hurting Vanessa’s son.”
“Try me,” I grit out. “And every time you say his name, you earn another lick from me tonight. You’re at five right now.”
Her eyes widen in surprise before she glances away trying to cover it. “I told you earlier that I want you to keep your filthy tongue in your mouth.”
“Oh, I’m not talking about licks of my tongue, princess.”
“Then what…”
“You’ll find out soon enough,” I assure her. “For now, we need to speak to a reporter and take a photo. Then there’s someone I want you to meet.”
“Who?”
“Julia Townsend. This way.” I grab her right wrist, the one without the diamond bracelet to pull her over. Like an insolent child, Sophie tries to dig her heels in, so I tug harder until we’re headed to our destination. Ungrateful little brat.
I give a local reporter five minutes to ask me a few questions about the event, the gardens being built to replace the ruined section of the casino, and then, as hoped, he asks if his photographer can get a photo of me with my new wife.
“Smile,” I whisper in her ear when I pull her to my side. “Unless you want me to lock you away like Dante.”
“Always manipulation tactics with you two,” she murmurs but then thankfully flashes a brilliant smile toward the photographer.
Once that’s over, I place a hand on Sophie’s lower back to guide her toward our next encounter.
“Mrs. Townsend,” I say, interrupting the wealthy widow’s conversation with an ancient-looking hag who probably can’t hear a word she says anyway. “Good to see you here tonight.”
